


Bright Eyes

by useyourtelescope



Category: Original Work
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26431003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourtelescope/pseuds/useyourtelescope
Summary: Over the years they had spoken occasionally in court, danced once or twice. He seemed reasonably intelligent, perfectly honourable. And he didn’t step on her toes.She couldn’t think of anything bad to say about him.But that didn’t mean she was keen to marry him.
Relationships: Honourable Knight/Dutiful Noblewoman Who Doesn't Want to Marry Him, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27
Collections: Het Swap Exchange 2020





	Bright Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FeatheryMinx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatheryMinx/gifts).



> Thank you to ryn for her feedback!

The first time Lady Isabella laid eyes on her future husband he was laughing.

Well, it wasn’t the first time she  _ saw  _ him, but it was the first time she really looked. It was just before noon and he was standing with a fellow knight, joking as they supervised the knights in training practising their swordplay. His laughter wouldn’t have been striking if she hadn’t been keen to study the man she had just been informed would be her husband. 

And it had been information she was given, not a question she was posed.

The King had called her in to see him and the council and after a very limited preamble had informed Isabella that Sir Henry was to be her husband.

Lady Isabella had merely bowed in response as she knew she should, masking her true thoughts. There had been some titters from the council at her submissive response. Lady Isabella certainly had never been known for biting her tongue in court, but if those men didn’t know the difference between voicing her displeasure in a trivial conversation with her peers and talking back to a direct order from the King himself then they were just as stupid as she had always suspected and did not deserve the acknowledgement. 

Little detail had been arranged yet so it was not long before the King dismissed her once more to allow the council to discuss more important things than the altered course of her life. 

Although she had anticipated the news once she had received her summons, Isabella was a little surprised at how bitter she felt walking away from the chambers. An arranged marriage had always been expected, after all. She was a noblewoman, her father a key figure in the King’s council before his passing, his seat subsequently taken up by her mother. Lady Maria had shown no hesitation in passively meeting her daughter’s eyes while Isabella had stood before them all and been informed of her fate; she believed in tradition and had told Isabella from a young age that her husband would be chosen for her.

It was the fate of many nobles across the kingdoms, but it was especially true in theirs as the King had had little luck in producing heirs of his own. No daughters, and of his two sons only one had survived past infancy—the other would come of age in two years but spent so much time in his sickbed that his future subjects would be hard-pressed to recognise him if he ever regained enough strength to walk into the town square. Some would have railed at their misfortune, but the King had always been a man of action; he had secured his kingdom with his resourcefulness in battle when Lady Isabella had been but a young girl and he had shown the same resourcefulness in arranging political matches with other kingdoms to secure his position. In lieu of daughters, the ladies of the court had been useful to him. 

She knew it would one day be her turn, that she was lucky to have made it to the age of twenty-five without having been called upon already (though, she also knew it was not entirely luck). With this certainty in mind, Isabella had never thought too closely about what she might wish for in a husband for her likes would be of little importance in the decision. But she had at least dared to dream that, like most of the ladies she had called friend who had been married in years past, she might be betrothed to a man who came from a more exciting kingdom. It did not have to be much different to be more exciting to Isabella, just to go somewhere else after twenty-five years sounded appealing; she longed to see the ocean but would have been content in a kingdom that had longer summers and milder winters.

But it was not to be for her duty would not take her to any other kingdom—she was to wed a knight of the kingdom, a prize to reward his recent service to the king. 

If she hadn't already known she was an unpopular option for a bride that would have been the final confirmation. 

It wasn’t often that a knight was awarded a wife, and a lady from the Queen’s court at that. Sir Henry had received the honour thanks to his heroics in saving the King’s life two days prior. He’d been part of the escort that had seen the King back from a neighbouring kingdom when they’d been attacked on the road. She had heard the talk of how quickly Sir Henry had reacted, springing into action before the others had even noticed the threat.

He was well-liked by the women in the palace—in the past two days Isabella had overheard many a conversation where appreciation of the keen eyesight that had enabled Sir Henry to save the King soon turned into appreciation of the eyes themselves, as well as other features - and at a good age for marriage, around thirty if she remembered correctly. Isabella wondered whether Sir Henry had thought it a reward of a punishment to be given a wife of his King’s choosing. 

Especially when the wife he would be saddled with was her—the eldest of the unmarried noble ladies of the court. At twenty-five, she should have been married many years before. Her mother had been preparing her from fifteen, told her she could expect it from eighteen, but certainly would be likely by twenty. It had been for most of the ladies she knew.

But Lady Isabella had never been considered a good match for smoothing over relations with another kingdom, and she didn't have to wonder why. 

Difficult, unsmiling, aloof—she had been called it all. 

The comments on her beauty she had received as a young girl had changed as she had grown older and her personality came through and she had learned she didn’t need to hide the sharper side of her temperament just to suit others - that being nice was something she was only required to turn on when it was required for the good of the kingdom, and not for the sake of appeasing everyone she met in court. Her mother had visited her in her bedroom one night last year, after Lady Alice at only nineteen had been betrothed to a neighbouring Prince, complaining that her value to the kingdom would never be truly seen by all if she did not keep better control of her tongue within the castle walls. At the time Isabella had merely continued to brush her long black hair in silence, dutifully nodding until her mother had given up and retired to her own chambers, but she had truly tried to make more of an effort. 

Perhaps her reputation had been too well established by then for it to have made a difference in the end.

She knew Sir Henry in much the same way she knew any of the knights. Watching the younger men train reminded Isabella of a memory from years ago when her betrothed was not yet a Sir, and still in the position of the men in front of them. She remembered seeing him train while she walked with her cousins and clucking in irritation when the serious conversation she was trying to have was interrupted by titters from the younger girls over the fine form of the young knights. 

He hadn't preened at the attention the way so many others had, but it had clearly been welcome.

Over the years they had spoken occasionally in court, danced once or twice. He seemed reasonably intelligent, perfectly honourable. And he didn’t step on her toes.

She couldn’t think of anything bad to say about him.

But that didn’t mean she was keen to marry him. 

Isabella had been in the library with her dearest friend, Lady Felicity, when she had received her summons from the king and had nearly returned there when she had idly wondered what her betrothed thought of the arrangement and determined to find out for herself. Soon the news of their betrothal would have spread through the castle and their meetings would be carefully planned, perhaps chaperoned, on the occasions they would be allowed to see each other rather than plan their union. Or, she supposed it would be her who would be saddled with being present for the planning, while Sir Henry would have the excuse of his knightly duties to fulfil. Regardless, sneaking off to see him before that seemed the easiest way to enable a moderately private conversation. 

Studying him, Isabella supposed Sir Henry was more handsome than she remembered; the sunlight warmed his light-brown hair and the laughter in his eyes brightened his expression. But it rankled her that he could look so carefree at a time like this. Although he had been told first, she was aware he had only learned of the betrothal today as well. Did he care so little about his marriage? About his wife?

There was only one way to find out, she supposed.

Isabella walked the short distance to her betrothed. He noticed her promptly, clearly not so distracted by his amusing conversation as she had thought. She could not make out what he said to his companion, but the man quickly nodded and left to join the other knights so Sir Henry was alone by the time she reached his side.

“Sir Henry.”

He bowed respectably. “My lady.”

She faltered when he straightened and the force of his smile was bestowed on her. 

But any man could have a nice smile if he tried hard enough, she reminded herself. 

“You seem very pleased—I take it you are happy with the King’s decision.”

His lips twitched slightly. “I take it you are not,” he replied. It was kindly spoken, but it was more direct than she had been expecting. She did not remember him being quite this blunt when they had conversed in the past. But it was the only time they had been alone together—and in all likelihood, it would be the only time until their wedding night. Though he would be allowed more freedom than she, a reminder which returned her composure quickly. 

“I will do my duty to my King and the kingdom. I am sure you will as well.”

He did not look altogether pleased with this answer, which suited her better. 

“But not be happy about it?” he said.

His insistence was more surprising and she glanced away to watch the training as she debated her answer. She was not happy about it, but she did not come here to complain about that. Sir Henry could no more break free of the union than she could. The King would be greatly offended if one of his knights tried to bow their way out of a union he had graced them with. He might feel more sympathetic towards a noble lady such as herself pleading for her cause not to be wed—even if he was unlikely to grant them their wish—but for a knight to do so would gain his ire. And Sir Henry was certainly a dutiful knight; that was how he had gained her as his prize, after all.

“I hope…” he began and she returned her gaze to his face, curious about the genuine emotion she seemed to find straining to break free of the usual court mask they all wore. “I hope you will not find our marriage to your dissatisfaction.”

She was disappointed by this more formal ending to his statement - gently delivered but lacking the emotion that had started his speech and his gaze turned downwards to the helmet in his arms. How could she believe he truly held much emotion in his words when he gave his speech to his armour rather than her face?

She tilted her head and considered him again. “And do you believe it will be to your satisfaction?” she wondered. “You must know what a low opinion the court has of me.”

“I find it best to pay little attention to court gossip, my lady,” he replied with haste, this time meeting her eyes.

“But are you not concerned I will be a difficult wife?”

“Perhaps we have different opinions on what being difficult is.”

“In what sense?”

He paused. “No, I stand corrected. I see you are intent on being difficult.”

The surprising sound his mock-serious comment drew from her made Isabella flush. She did not think her laugh was usually so girlish. 

She cleared her throat, looking away. “I am known for it, after all.” Sensing he was inclined to disagree, Isabella continued in a teasing tone, “And surely you must have been hoping for Lady Honoria?” There was truly no malice in this. Isabella liked Lady Honoria well-enough though they were not close, and at barely eighteen her pastimes felt more youthful than Isabella’s interests. But Honoria had been widely hailed as the most beautiful girl the kingdom had ever seen and that combined with her very sweet temperament, meant she was well sought after for a future bride.

“As a matter of fact, I was not.”

Her eyes flickered to him once more, but he gave nothing away. “I’m sure some of your fellow knights would challenge you to a duel for decrying the beautiful Lady Honoria.”

This amused a smile out of him. “No one could deny Lady Honoria’s  _ beauty, _ but…”

“But?”

“I wouldn’t normally say, but as we are to be married I suppose I can tell you I found Lady Honoria to be rather disappointing in conversation.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I am afraid you may still be disappointed yet, sir.” She waited until he looked at her curiously to finish, “I was told I had to marry you, not that I had to converse with you.”

Despite her impertinence, his smile grew. “And yet you were the one who sought me out, my lady.”

It was a fact she could not deny, but to her surprise, instead of feeling set down Isabella smiled. She enjoyed it when someone met her conversation well and there were so few in court who could. “Well, I am glad then that you were not disappointed when the King surprised you with the news this morning.”

“I never said I was surprised.”

Now, she frowned. “I thought the King had only told you of the betrothal today.” 

“He did. However, on our ride back to the kingdom the other day he asked me for my opinion on the ladies of the court.”

Sir Henry did not give her time to fully consider his words before he took a step away.

“I am much obliged to you for our conversation, but I must return to training now. I hope we will speak again very soon though, my lady.”

Isabella now felt slightly flustered. What could Sir Henry have said about her that would make the King think she would be his preferred wife? “I am sure we will,” she said, hoping she maintained a cool tone.

He smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Strangely enough, Isabella agreed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Now authors have been revealed I've cross-posted this to my tumblr with a moodboard [here](https://useyourtelescope.tumblr.com/post/630976949972566016/bright-eyes-original-work-2k-g-rating).


End file.
